


Valentine's Day Sucks.

by toomuchagain



Series: The toomaddexagain War of 2013 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode: s05e14 My Bloody Valentine, Gen, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomuchagain/pseuds/toomuchagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Famine, Castiel feels useless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine's Day Sucks.

**Author's Note:**

> The Great Cockles War of 2013 has reached an end, neither side actually winning. Toomuchagain ceased both the unending flood of maddex's tag with angsty posts, as well as writing super-angsty ficlets designed to bring about the sad feels. But there was one last volley, and here it is.

Dean drags himself up the cellar steps, bottle of whiskey in one hand, leaving Cas alone with Sam’s screams.

Every word he says out there in the salvage yard, Cas hears. It’s wrong that Dean should make himself so vulnerable and go unanswered. An anger that’s been festering for months coils around his ribs just that little bit tighter. How can God ignore this plea for help? Cas longs to take his place, fix everything for Dean.

Of course, praying to Cas has hardly done much for Dean so far. Cas wants to be the one to help him, but it seems all he can do is show up and get sidetracked by red meat, while Sam and Dean battle Horsemen.

Even now, his words bring no comfort to Dean. Dean doesn’t care what he has to say regarding Sam, stuck drying out in the panic room once again.

With his fading mojo, he can't even do something so simple as ease Sam's pain.

He is...useless.

Without Dean’s presence as a buffer, Castiel’s resolve does not last long in the face of Sam calling for them, and soon he’s winging his way inside, kneeling beside Sam and catching his outstretched hand.

“I’m here, Sam," he promises.

Sam’s head whips to the side, his eyes seeking Cas out despite the bright sheen of fever making him only semi-coherent.

“Cas,” he whines, curls into him, and writhes, moans, grips Cas so hard it would physically injure a human.

Cas awkwardly puts a hand on his shoulder, unsure how to give the comfort required.

Sam responds by choking out a sob and rolling off his cot so that he’s practically in Cas’s lap, clutching him.

For a moment, Cas is shocked and uncertain.

But the reality of Sam so broken and almost childlike in his desperation is just that little bit of pain too much, with Dean drinking himself into numbness out in the yard, just one more little soldier not worthy of God’s notice. Castiel’s hands clench into Sam’s shirt. Taking a shuddering breath, he lowers his forehead to rest against Sam’s hair, and holds on just as hard.

“I’m here, Sam.”


End file.
